Documentos de Académico
Documentos de Profesional
Documentos de Cultura
by
Friedrich K. Schumann
The debate began with Rudolf Bultmann’s essay on New Testament and
Mythology. Let us first give a brief summary of Bultmann’s argument. The
problem, he says, is that the New Testament presents the events of our
redemption in terms of the mythical world view of classical antiquity. This world
view entered the New Testament via late Jewish apocalyptic and the Gnostic
redemption myth and has profoundly affected it on every page. Its principal
features are: a three-storied universe consisting of heaven, earth, and underworld;
the intervention of natural and supernatural powers in human life; the dominion
of evil spirits and Satan over that life and also over the external realm of nature;
the imminent end in time of this present world-æon. The gospel proclaims that
"now is the time of the End here, for the Son of God has appeared on earth as a
preexistent cosmic being. His death brings deliverance from the bondage of sin
and the power of Satan, his resurrection is the defeat of the power of death, his
impending return will be the end of this aeon, and the inauguration of the
kingdom of God, the judgment of this world and the perfection of the community
of believers. " All this is undeniably mythological, and Bultmann thinks it is
senseless and impracticable to foist this mythical view of the world on modern
man, whose thinking is "shaped for good or ill by modern science". If this
principle is accepted, then the belief in good and evil spirits must be regarded as
obsolete, together with the New Testament miracles, at least in their traditional
sense, the mythical eschatology with its doctrine of death as the punishment of
sin, and the Church’s doctrine of a vicarious atonement through the death of
Jesus on the cross and the victory over death through his resurrection. Obviously,
this involves a serious reduction of the substance of the gospel, and it is not
surprising that Bultmann’s essay has been widely regarded as a recrudescence of
rationalistic liberalism and a further stage in the complete dissolution of the
gospel. But this is certainly not Bultmann’s intention. He has no desire to erect
some modern view of the world as the norm to which the gospel must conform.
On the contrary, he seeks to liberate the whole meaning of the gospel and to
make it intelligible to modern man in all its fullness. That is why he deems it
imperative to release the permanent truth of the gospel from its framework in an
obsolete world view -- in short, to "demythologize" it.
Now, this raises a vital question. Is this Christian understanding of human life
necessarily bound to the person of Jesus Christ, or can it be detached from him?
In the second case, we should have not merely demythologizing, but the actual
dissolution of the gospel of Jesus Christ. In the first case, we are bound at once to
ask whether this connection with Jesus Christ is a "remnant of mythology".
Bultmann has no doubt as far as the New Testament is concerned; there the
Christian understanding of human life is inseparably linked to the person of
Jesus. But what is the real truth of the matter? According to Bultmann, it would
seem to be possible to arrive at an understanding of human life which is
unconnected with Christ, and yet goes a certain distance in agreement with the
Christian understanding of human life. This is apparently proved by the
understanding of human Being as "Fallenness" (Verfallensein) in Heidegger and
Kamlah. (Christentum und Selbstbehauptung, 1940.) But existentialism and
Christianity part company when they come to the question as to how deliverance
from this "fallenness" is to be achieved. For the Christian to be "fallen" means to
be a prey to sin and death, and our deliverance from that plight is wrought by the
death and resurrection of Christ. Evidently it is inseparably linked to the person
of Jesus Christ. Does this link then mark the extreme limit of demythologizing?
Is there a mythological remnant in the Christian message which must be left at all
costs? The crucial question is therefore whether the event of Jesus Christ is itself
amenable to demythologizing.
But, we ask, what justification have we for attributing such a significance to this
particular historical event? Does the historical event itself exhibit this
significance? Or, as Bultmann puts it: "Is this significance discernible in the
actual event of past history?" If not, then with what justification was that
significance attributed to it in the first place? If yes, then the event must itself be
more than just an event of past history: it must include within itself as an event of
the past this meta-historical, existential significance, and it must be possible to
extract that significance from the event itself. Bultmann, however, will not admit
these alternatives, and feels obliged to adopt a peculiar way out of his own. He
thinks it would certainly be true of "the first preachers" of the gospel. They
certainly perceived the meta-historical significance of what they witnessed
enacted in their sight and hearing. "For them, but only for them, the cross was a
personal experience: it was the cross of one with whom they had lived in
personal intercourse.... For us this personal connection cannot be reproduced....
For us the cross is an event of the past. We cannot recover it as an event in our
own lives. All we know of it is derived from historical report." In other words,
we should be thrown back upon past history with all its problems. "But", objects
Bultmann, "this is not the way in which Jesus Christ is proclaimed to us. The
meaning of the cross does not have to be disclosed from an historical
reconstruction of his life. Rather, he is proclaimed as the crucified and risen." So
in attempting to emancipate the cross from mythology we are thrown back to a
similar question with regard to the resurrection.
Bultmann’s remark about the inseparable unity of the cross and resurrection is in
any case of the utmost practical importance. For in the traditional preaching of
the Church that unity has rarely received its due. But it is obvious that it only
adds to our difficulties in the present connection. For the resurrection "is not an
event of past history" in the sense that the cross is. The cosmic significance of the
cross cannot therefore be demonstrated by the resurrection as an event of past
history. In what sense then do the cross and resurrection form an inseparable
unity in which the cosmic, eschatological significance of the cross may be
disclosed? The connection between them is not that the resurrection is a
miraculous proof of the cosmic, eschatological significance of the cross. The
unity between them is of a different order: they "form a single, indivisible
‘cosmic’ event which brings judgment to the world and opens up for men the
possibility of authentic life." "The resurrection is not a mythological event
adduced in order to prove the saving efficacy of the cross, but an article of faith
just as much as the meaning of the cross itself.... Indeed, faith in the resurrection
is really the same thing as faith in the saving efficacy of the cross. " If that be so,
the reference to the resurrection, for all its importance, does not tell us why
redemptive significance should be attached to the cross. It does not tell us
whether the cross bears that significance in its own right, or only in combination
with the resurrection. For Bultmann, apparently, there can be only one answer:
"because this is the way in which the cross is proclaimed". Because Christ
crucified and risen encounters us only in the word of preaching, therefore faith in
this word is "the only real Easter faith", just as this word itself is "part of the
eschatological event".
Is our task of emancipating the New Testament complete with this interpretation?
"Are there still any surviving traces of mythology?" In view of the very different
nuances which Bultmann gives in the course of his essay to such terms as "myth"
and "mythological", it is difficult to give any conclusive answer. Here is
Bultmann’s own answer: "There certainly are for those who regard all language
about an act of God or of a decisive eschatological act as mythological. " (We
may add that if "mythological" means whatever cannot be reconciled with the
modern scientific view of the world with its closed system of cause and effect,
then an eschatological act of God is either no act at all or else it is mythical in the
above sense of that word.) But, thinks Bultmann, that is not mythology in the
traditional sense, not the kind of mythology which has become antiquated with
the decay of the mythical world view. The difference is not quite clear, for
Bultmann had originally defined the mythical world view as one which left room
for extra -- and supramundane interventions, in contrast to the modern world
view which postulates a rigid, closed system of cause and effect. There is
certainly no room in this modern world view for a unique eschatological act as
distinct from that creative action which may be considered to be present in
everything. For such a view of the world an eschatological act of God can be
regarded only as mythical. What Bultmann means is that the difference between
the mythological language of the New Testament and ecclesiastical dogma on the
one hand and his own interpretation on the other is that the former presents us
with a "miraculous, supernatural event", whereas the right interpretation is one
which suggests "an historical event wrought out in time and space". Whatever we
make of this distinction, one thing is certain: the idea of a single historical event
in time and space as the judgment pronounced by God over the historical process
in time and space and the radical transformation of its whole constitution is
inconceivable for those who accept the modern world view, and it would be
impossible to make such a notion intelligible in the terms of such a view. So even
Bultmann admits that this idea must be accepted as the paradox of the New
Testament proclamation -- i.e. the paradox "that the eschatological emissary of
God is a concrete figure of a particular historical past, and that his eschatological
activity was wrought out in a human fate, and that therefore it is an event whose
eschatological character does not admit of a secular proof". At the end of this
quotation we have perhaps the clearest indication of what Bultmann means by the
"demythologizing" which he believes to have effected. "Mythology" in his sense
of the word is precisely an attempt to furnish a "secular proof" of the
eschatological significance of an event of past history by the use of objective
imagery. So in the last analysis "demythologizing" is for him identical with the
demonstration of the authentically paradoxical character of the gospel. (Cf. the
sentence right at the end "It is just its immunity from proof which secures the
Christian proclamation against the charge of being mythological.") If however
we accept Bultmann’s initial definition of mythology as that which is
incompatible with the modern world view and its closed system of cause and
effect, the very idea of such a paradox would seem to be incurably mythological,
and the whole endeavor of "demythologizing" would seem, at any rate on this
assumption, a questionable procedure. Yet it is just this paradoxical character of
the gospel which Bultmann is so firmly resolved to uphold: "All these assertions
are of course an ‘offense’ ( _ _ ), and the offense will not be removed
by philosophical discussion, but only by faith and obedience. ...The
transcendence of God is not as in myth reduced to immanence. Instead, we have
the paradox of a transcendent God present and active in history: ‘The Word
became flesh’."
It would have been well if those numerous critics who have taken offense at
Bultmann’s ideas had paid particular attention to the importance of these
concluding sentences. Of course, it is in a way not surprising that at first sight
much of this looks like a recrudescence of rationalistic liberalism. But the
entirely different turn and interpretation Bultmann has given it ought not to have
been overlooked. He is not trying to accommodate the gospel to a
modern Weltanschauun, or to make that Weltanschauun a norm to which the
gospel must conform. On the contrary, his express intention is to throw into relief
the real meaning of the gospel in all its paradox, and so to protect it from those
misinterpretations which so easily suggest themselves, but which for that very
reason are particularly dangerous. Moreover, he seeks to do this in such a way as
to serve the preacher’s conscientiousness for truth and maintain the credibility of
the gospel in all its seriousness for his hearers. And all this is certainly a
legitimate task for theology, and one whose practical importance is not to be
underestimated. It extends from the simple narration of the Christmas story with
the star and the wise men and the angelic hymn right up to our preaching at
Ascension-tide and Pentecost. And in all this the difficulties are not just those of
theological debate; they are continually being raised by the ordinary church-goer,
and even by children with their insistent inquiries ("What became of the star
when it left the wise men? Where did Jesus go to when he ascended? Was it
straight up to the third story at the top of the sky, or where was it?").
As theologians we ought not to make light of such questions from the mouths of
babes and sucklings. It is just here that we are confronted with the -- in the best
sense of the word -- simple desire for truth on the part of our hearers, and nothing
is so damaging to the reputation of the theologian as when his utterances produce
the effect of parrot-cries which have ceased to be relevant to the hearer’s grasp of
truth or reality, and therefore so utterly irrelevant to his daily life. We have
therefore every reason to be grateful to Bultmann for opening up afresh a
question which confronts every theologian as he pursues his vocation, but which
in recent years has been unwarrantably deprived of its sting. Of course, we
cannot take Bultmann’s essay and the subsequent elucidations he has given so far
as the last word on all the problems he has raised; they are too far-reaching and
too complex for that. Moreover, the continuation of the debate in writing has
been seriously hampered by the restrictions and delays of wartime. The most
valuable contributions so far have been set down only in private correspondence,
and have not as yet been published. Even in this place a thorough examination of
Bultmann’s thesis would greatly exceed the available space. We must therefore
content ourselves by calling attention to a few points for further consideration.
These will concern not so much the details of Bultmann’s argument and his
conclusions, as key problems of methodology.
It was at first not easy to see in what sense Bultmann was using the word "myth",
and what he really meant by "demythologizing". This ancient word (myth),
which appears even in the New Testament (1Tim. 1:4; 4:7; 2 Tim. 4:4; Tit. 1:14;
2 Pet. 1:16), has been used in many different senses especially since the end of
the eighteenth century, and thereby has acquired a direct or indirect importance
for theology. For example, the French positivists (A. Cointe) understood by
mythological thought a primitive, pre-scientific interpretation of the universe. For
speculative idealism myth was the unfolding of an Idea in an historical process
involving persons and events (D. F. Strauss). For romanticism myth was an
attempt to interpret the Symbol, which was considered to be by itself unutterable,
the wordless utterance about existence which preceded the myth (so especially J.
J. Bachofen). Now Bultmann has come along with his own formula: Myth is "a
mode of thought and speech which objectivizes the unworldly so as to make it
worldly". What that means becomes clear only when the question is raised as to
the impulse and intention behind this particular mode of thought and speech.
Here we are confronted by the problem of the relation between myth and science
or scientific world view. Now, for Bultmann both myth and science spring from
an ultimately existential impulse. In other words, they are both attempts to
interpret human existence. Myth seeks to do this by interpreting and bringing
influence to bear on encounters with the powers and forces which dominate
human life. Science tries to do the same thing indirectly, by taking a detached
view of the world in which man finds himself, to apprehend that world as a unity
and thus to make it a tool for the use of man. Now, this gives us three possible
relations between myth and science. (a) Man may regard his encounter with the
powers which dominate his life -- death, life, spirit, blood, and so forth -- as the
decisive factors in his life: science will then be an academic luxury devoid of any
existential importance. (b) He may regard both the concrete encounter with these
powers and the knowledge of the general constitution of the universe as the
decisive factors in his life. In that case he will assign an equal importance both to
science and to myth, and will attempt a synthesis between them. (c) Science may
claim that its knowledge of the universe is such as to entitle it to be the sole and
final arbiter of existence and its problems. In that case it must regard itself as able
to supersede myth and must "demythologize" everything which requires to be
taken seriously. The first of these possibilities -- which even today is not without
its representatives -- is scarcely relevant for our theological problem. The second
possibility will be taken seriously by those who cannot accept the suggestion that
the laws of cause and effect and formal structures expressed in a series of
concepts are the answer to the riddle of life and death. (Such people, for example,
would hold that even the most accurate insight into man’s physical and psychic
constitution cannot tell us what life and death mean to us personally.) They will
therefore maintain that there is existential truth which cannot be expressed in the
language of discursive terminology, and which therefore requires an entirely
different language, indirect and allusive, but such as cannot be supplanted or
explained away. The third possibility will be favored by those who make their
own the anterior existential decision, which -- as even Bultmann admits -- was
imported from Greek thought at the beginning of Western science, and on which
that science is largely based even today -- viz., the existential decision that the
individual is no more than a specific instance of a general cosmic law and order
which is capable of being expressed in a terminology which is at bottom quite
simple and which is detachable from existence. On this view everything which
claims to be meaningful and credible must be capable of being expressed in the
language of this terminology. And where the influence of myth is still
discernible, there is need for "demythologizing".
It does not appear to me that Bultmann favors this third possibility. He surely
cannot believe that the ultimate decision about man depends on the possibility of
classifying him in a general order of an abstract kind. After all, his aim is to
interpret the gospel, and the gospel is not an analysis of the formal structure of
human life and of the universe, but the proclamation of event and encounter: God
is present in Jesus Christ. But in that case the language of proclamation can never
be the language of scientific terminology. No mode of human speech hitherto
discovered is fitted as it stands as a vehicle for the gospel, for the gospel is
something which has never been expressed hitherto. If therefore the gospel is to
be made intelligible, it must use a language such as men use when they speak of
events with an ultimate existential and cosmic significance. Thus the New
Testament -- including it would seem even Jesus himself -- seizes upon a
language which may be called that of "mythology" as the best available means of
expressing its subject-matter. It is true that in a certain sense this language
presents "unworldly’’ truths objectively, as if they were "worldly" realities. But it
must not be supposed that in adopting this imagery the New Testament does so
naïvely, unconsciously or uncritically. It is always aware of the tension between
the language used and the reality of which it is the medium. Even the language of
Greek mythology -- be it never so ancient - is not in the least bit primitive. It too
is a language of a higher order, analogous to the language of lyric, which as a
matter of fact grew out of it. It is highly indirect, allusive and indefinite as
compared with the solid language of objective reality. It is always so to speak
transcending itself: it always relies on the ability of the reader to read between
the lines. The Greeks who saw the Eumenides of Aeschylus knew that it was not
a play about a company of old wives, but they also knew that it was impossible
for the playwright to deliver his message in a series of logical or ontological
propositions. And on a higher level the same process is repeated in the Bible
wherever it makes use of the imagery of mythology. The Bible is certainly aware
of what it is doing. It knows that it must risk the impropriety if it is to point at all
to the real subject in hand. When the seer in Rev. 19: 11 sees a man sitting on a
white horse, he is fully aware that it was not literally a white horse as distinct
from a black one. The New Testament is fully aware not only of the indirect
character of the imagery it uses but also of the indirect use which it makes of that
imagery. It uses that imagery, however, because it is the best available medium
for conveying its message. To take an illustration which is particularly apt, as it
does not involve any of the central problems of dogmatic theology, in Matt. 18:
10 Jesus says: "I say unto you that in heaven their angels do always behold the
face of my Father which is in heaven." Now, he could not have said that in any
other language without altering its whole meaning. To "demythologize" that
saying by removing the angels would, so far from elucidating the meaning,
destroy it completely.
That is why we shall never succeed in producing a gospel free from mythology
even at the end of our efforts. That is so for the elementary reason that the
understanding we are looking for can never be formulated and passed on as a
conclusive result. In all the work of exegesis and exposition results are possible
only in a technical, and not in an absolute, universal sense. The understanding we
are seeking is present only in so far as it takes shape in the actual course of our
work. That is why theology is never the object of a departmental study which can
hand on assured results. Theology is possible only as a stimulus to press on with
the work of a life-time. The parish priest is not qualified by taking a theological
degree, but only by constantly renewing and deepening his study of theology. To
study theology means to desire to live in a progressive understanding of the
gospel and to devote one’s life ever anew to this understanding.